Claire gritted her teeth together, as Matt's boots squeaked once more across the floor of the room. The man had not stopped pacing since he had been dumped unceremoniously on the floor of the Avenger's headquarters. Which, that was just a wild statement in and of itself, and something she was better off just not dealing with at the moment. Regardless, Matt had been pacing for the last few hours. Percy had reappeared, dropped him on the floor, told him to watch over everyone, and then had disappeared. That had been nearly four hours ago.
Of course, the first thing Matt had done, was try and leave the building. It was then that the occupants of the tower became immensely aware of exactly the difference between someone like the Devil, and the Avengers truly was.
Not only had alarms gone off. Not only had there been blaring announcements about Matt's attempted escape. But the entire building had literally become shuttered. Enormous metal panes closed off the building from escape, doors locked, vents froze, and all the lights went out. Not a problem for Matt of course, but immensely annoying for everyone else.
Matt had not tried anything since.
"What's happening?" Matt asked for umpteenth time, as he strode past the large workstation that Hill had been sitting at for the last few hours. It had become another annoying habit of his, on top of the pacing. Every fifth pass or so of the desk, he'd ask if there were any new updates. And every single time, Hill just ignored him.
This time, however, it appeared that even her patience was at its breaking point,
"Listen, Devilman or whatever you're calling yourself, even if there was an update for me to give you. I wouldn't. I don't work for you, I don't even technically work for Percy. But it's his op, not yours. Your job, is to sit here quietly, and patiently, and wait for the possibility of something showing up that shouldn't be here. So sit down, shut up, and let me do my job."
Matt grumbled something under his breath, but even he wasn't dumb enough to press any further.
Fortunately for him, there was no real need to wait much longer. Jarvis' voice rang through the large room,
"Sentinel is reaching out Miss Hill," he said, "Shall I put him on speaker, and attempt to quell the good Devil's troubles."
Rolling her eyes, Hill just huffed a yes.
"Sentinel to Tower," Percy's voice said through the speakers,
"Go ahead Sentinel," Hill replied,
"Targets have been neutralized. Send a clean up crew. Made a bit of a mess."
Hill arched a brow as the Devil stiffened in his seat, "Leave any alive to be questioned?" she asked,
"Negative," Percy said, "Group like this ain't gonna talk. Brining one of the bodies back with me though. Noticed something…interesting about it. Want some of our resident nurses to take a closer look."
Matt looked beyond incensed. Claire could hear the leather of his gloves creak slightly as his fists clenched, and if his jaw was any tighter, he might chip a tooth.
"Clean-up crew en route. Clear to return to Tower." Hill sent back,
"Check," Percy confirmed. A moment later, there was a flurry of mist and Percy reappeared in the tower. Claire was taken aback slightly by his appearance. He didn't look hurt necessarily, but the man was drenched in blood. His boots and greaves were stained red, and the knuckles of his gloves were stained dark, and dripping with blood. Tossed carelessly over one shoulder, was a man who was very clearly dead. Blood pooling out of hundreds of puncture wounds over the dark black android body suit he had been wearing.
Ignoring everyone else, Percy marched over to an empty table, and dumped the body on top of it. Curious, and feeling equally queasy, Claire slowly wandered over to the body, only to pause in confusion. The man's shirt had ripped open, leaving his chest bare under the cloth coverings. But there was something strange on his chest, almost like a scar. Walking closer, Claire got a better look and realized that it was a scar. But not just any scar.
"What the hell," She muttered, running gloved hands over the marking, numb to the blood that was pooling around her fingertips as she traced the lines of the scar on the torso. The squeak of Matt's boots signified that he was coming over to have a look as well.
"Look familiar to you?" Percy asked, not looking at Claire. His gaze was still focused on the chest of his victim.
Claire nodded numbly, "I've seen enough cadavers to know autopsy stitching when I see it." She said, her fingers still tracing the 'Y' shaped scar on the man's chest.
Percy turned his gaze away from the body and looked over at Matt, "You said you ran into a man who you could have sworn had died right?" He asked, but Matt didn't reply. He was standing a few feet away, his eyes locked on the direction of the body. Which was strange for Claire, knowing the man couldn't see anything.
"Hey, Devil," Percy said, snapping his fingers at the man, "Earth to Devil, me ask question, you answer. That's how conversations work,"
"You killed him, you killed all of them," Matt said, his voice soft, sounding almost disbelieving,
Percy snorted, "Of course I did." The words sounded cold and callous, even to Claire,
"You said you wouldn't kill anyone," Matt said, voice still quiet,
"Yeah, when we were going after Castle and those stooges who kidnapped him." Percy pointed a finger at the body on the table, "I didn't say anything about them,"
That, apparently, had been the wrong thing to say. Matt roared, and charged at Percy, his fist cocked back in an angry swing,
"You said you would play by my rules," Matt yelled,
Percy just stepped out of the way of the swing, locked an arm through Matt's, and hip tossed him to the ground. There was a loud 'THUD' as Matt's body collided with the hard floor, and Percy put his foot on the man's chest, pressing down with some force. Matt groaned in pain, as Percy pressed down on where Claire knew, the man had more than a few fractured ribs.
It was surreal to watch. She had watched as Matt had systemically taken down an entire garage full of bad guys, when she had been kidnapped. She had watched the man do some terrifyingly impressive things. She knew what Matt was capable of. To see his thrown to the ground, and dispatched with such little effort…
It was easy to forget the man that Claire had met was one of the most dangerous people on the entire planet.
"You done?" Percy asked, sounding genuinely annoyed,
"You didn't need to kill them," Matt groaned out from his place on the ground, "I-I have a code. You said you would-"
"I said I'd play by your rules when the only people we were targeting were thugs and gangbangers." Percy pointed at the body, "These are not mob boys. These are not members of a cartel. This is an international crime syndicate, on the level of HYDRA. Granted, they aren't as well armed, or as well funded, but they are in a different league to the types of people you were going up against. These people are trained, and trained well. They move tactically, with precision. Military trained most likely. Different game all together."
"It's the same thi-"
"No it's not," Percy said, "I didn't kill when you asked me, because I wanted to work within the bounds of the law. Because I wanted to, like you, prove that the system worked. Could be trusted and believed in by the people. That entire principal goes out the window when dealing with people like that." Percy jerked a thumb back at the body again, "The law doesn't work on them. No court can prosecute them. No jail can hold them. Want to know how I know that?"
Percy didn't give Matt an opportunity to answer,
"I spent all day today going over anything and everything I could find on the Hand. They're ghosts. The show up somewhere, kill someone and disappear. They go back centuries, leaving bodies and massacres in their wake. You can't prosecute them. Can't arrest them, and honestly, the way you've been working lately, I don't you could do either to anybody anyway."
"You don't know what you're talking about," Matt gasped out,
"The hell I don't," Percy snapped back, "You know, I tried to defend you to your boy over there the other day," Percy gestured over at Foggy, who was sitting up in his bed watching the interaction in mounting interest.
"I tried to defend you. Tried to explain your side of the story. But after everything that's gone down in the last twenty-four hours, I'm starting to see Foggy's point. You are one man, trying to solve every problem at once. It's stretching you too damn thin. You're single handily destroying every relationship you've ever had, while simultaneously exhausting yourself to the point where you can't do any of your jobs properly."
Percy started counting off on one hands,
"Castle: you blew the trial, and now he's out on the streets again."
"To be fair," Foggy tried to say, "Castle being free isn't exactly his fault-"
Percy ignored him, while also semi-ignoring the fact that he might have just outed Matt to Claire's colleagues,
"The Hand: You're trying to fight this whole damn thing on your own, by your own rules, even though they outmatch you in almost every single way." Percy raised a third finger,
"Elektra Natchios: Dude, I shouldn't even have tell you to get as far away from that chick as possible,"
"What the hell do you know about-" Matt tried to wheel out,
"Everything," Percy snapped, "I knew her name sounded familiar, so I looked her up. Bitch tried to gut me and the diplomat I was charged with protecting in Bangladesh back in 2010. She's a psychopath. You come after me for killing bad guys who might as well have "World Domination" Tattooed on their foreheads, but you're content to bum around with a contract killer? Your priorities are so out of whack, I genuinely don't even know who's side you're trying to be on anymore."
Percy shook his head, "I want to help you man. I wasn't lying before. I need someone to look after my city when I can't, but how am I supposed to trust you to watch after my city, when you can't even be trusted to watch after yourself." Percy finally removed his foot from Matt's chest, and stepped away, and raised two finger's in the air,
"You got two strikes against you pal. One more, and I stop playing nice. Get your priorities in order. Stop trying to do everything yourself. You are one man. You can't end crime by yourself, you can't do everything at once. Even I need help, that's why the Avenger's exists, to help each other solve the problems too big for any one person to do on their own. So stop alienating everyone who wants to help you, and for god's sake, get your life together."
Percy sighed, running a hand through his ragged hair,
"Find Castle," He ordered, "Find him, and take care of the problem I don't care how you do it, but solve it. I'll handle the Hand." Matt looked like he wanted to argue it, but something in Percy's tone seemed to stop him dead in his tracks. Reluctantly, Matt nodded, then, before anyone could think to stop him, he rose to his feet, and left the room.
Claire was torn. On the one hand, she wanted to applaud Percy for finally, maybe, getting through the man's thick ass head. On the other hand, she was kind of on Matt's side. She wasn't sure how ok she was with an Avenger deciding life and death over other people like that. But, at the end of the day, what power did she actually have to stop either of them from doing what they was doing.
"Keep an eye on him for me Jarvis," Percy said, looking up at the ceiling,
"Absolutely sir," The A.I. replied immediately,
"What now?" Hill asked from her place behind the counter,
Now?" Percy said, turning to look at the remaining people in the room, "Now, we do some damage control. Don't want people thinking we were involved in this in any way."
"Wait what are you?-" Claire's question stopped abruptly, as Percy raised a hand, and waved it through the air, strange watery mist flowing across his finger tips. Claire saw small particles of mist float around the corners of her vision, before her mind went blank, and her world went dark.
BREAK
"What do we do with them?" Hill asked, as Percy gently laid the last of the nursing staff down on the floor. He had used some very refined mist control to manipulate their memories of what had happened over the last day or so. As far as they would remember, nothing strange had happened at the hospital. Percy had never been there, and they had simply managed to find a cure for the kids.
It had been a trick he had paid Lou Ellen into teaching him some years ago. One never knew when he would need to be able to perform some minor mist magic. It was imperative, for the tenuous legal situation the Avengers were in, that Percy not be associated in any way, to any kind of fighting or vigilantism in the city. Was it being a little overly-paranoid? Perhaps, but he hadn't managed to live as long as he had in the business without a healthy dose of paranoia.
As for the kids…They were already working on a way to put the kids into hiding. Percy wasn't certain if they would still be targets after the chemicals had been emptied from their stomachs, but he wasn't going to take any risks. If nothing else, they might be eliminated by the Hand simply to keep them out of Percy's hands. Hill had been working with some old contacts to get them into secure places.
As for the current situation, that was a little more tricky. He needed some way to find a link to the Hand in the city. His best bet was to investigate this hole in the ground that Matt had mentioned. Percy cursed lightly to himself, he should have pressed the man further on that minor detail, but there was nothing to be done about it for the moment. He was also concerned with the Natchios situation. She and Matt had supposedly been looking into the hand, just before this whole thing started popping off. That couldn't be a coincidence.
He needed to know why the woman was in the city, what her plans were, and how they connected her to the Hand.
Realizing that he hadn't actually answered Hill's question, he turned to look at the woman, "We get them back to the hospital, I'll…set a timer, they'll wake up after a bit, once the cleaners are gone, and this whole thing will be like it never actually happened"
Hill arched a brow, "What about the Devil, going to wipe him too?"
Percy shook his head, "Won't need to. He won't say anything. Of all people he'll know and understand why we need to be left out of all of this."
Hill nodded, "Bit harsh with him don't you think?"
"Was I wrong?" Percy asked,
"Not at all. He's way too green. Like a boot straight out of camp. Lot's of ideas, and eager to please, but still no clue how to really do any of this." She grinned, "Reminds me of you, a bit,"
In spite of the painful reminder of where he'd come from, Percy couldn't help but smile, "Please, don't insult me. I was much more of a hell raiser than he'll ever be."
Hill chuckled, "True. I somehow doubt we'll ever have to pull him out of a barn in Latveria, covered in cow manure, and missing his shoes."
Percy groaned, tilting his head back and rubbing at his eyes with the back of his hands, "I'm never living that down, am I?"
"Not while I'm alive," Hill laughed. The pair shared a few moments of quiet chuckling, before growing serious again,
"You got a game plan for all of this? I know you're capable, and these guys are no more dangerous than anyone else you've gone up against, but you're going in essentially without backup."
Percy grunted, "True, I got some ideas, first things first, I need to find a way to track down Natchios. Woman like that doesn't show up in the city without a reason. I somehow highly doubt that I'd get a straight answer out of Matt, which is why I didn't press him about it."
"So, what?" Hill said, "Find her, tail her, see where she goes, what she does?"
Percy nodded, and was about to speak, when Jarvis cut over top of them, "If your goal is to track miss Natchios, then perhaps I may be of assistance," He said,
"Whatcha got for me Jarvis?" Percy asked,
"After you began looking into Miss Natchios, I took the liberty of following her movements, she was last seen at a private hanger north of the city. It appeared, at first, that she was going to be leaving the cit, however, she has since turned back, and a camera on the tollway captured an image of her less than twenty minutes returning to the island."
Percy shared a look with Hill, "She was going to run," he said,
"But now shoe's not. What's with the sudden change in attitude? If she's linked to the Hand, she might have heard about the failed attack at the hospital, and has since been ordered back to the city."
Percy nodded, it was sound reasoning. "I don't think she's going to be making any more moves tonight, they'll be licking their wounds from this, for at least a few more hours, and I need some shut eye. Jarvis?" Percy called looking up at the ceiling,
"Yes, Mr. Jackson?" The A.I. asked,
"Keep an eye out for her will you? Let me know if she goes anywhere interesting, and keep me appraised of her whereabouts. And you think you can keep an eye out for Murdock and Castle too?"
"Certainly sir," He said, as both Percy and Hill made to leave the room, and head to their respective quarters, just before they reached the elevators, Jarvis called out once more, "What shall I be looking for in regards to messers Murdock and Castle?"
"Follow the gunfire Jarvis, follow the gunfire."
BREAK
It was late the following day, that Jarvis found some suspicious activity on Natchios. Street camera's had caught her heading into an old abandoned series of warehouses near the docking district. Thinking it was likely the meetup for whatever was about to go down, Percy followed suit. Donning the new armor that Tony had crafted for him. He had to give the man props, the suit was nice. It was comfortable, as far as armor went, flexible, and seemingly durable as hell. It gave into his movements, without sacrificing flexibility for strength. That, and it was nice to finally have a real uniform for once. {Percy would admit to being just a little bit jealous that everyone else seemed to have their own established looks but him.
Murdock had apparently been busy the night before. Supposedly, the Punisher had died in a firefight aboard a barge docked in the harbor, not too far from where Percy himself was heading. The NYPD had seized its largest shipment of heroine in the history of the department, and had found the bodies of over twenty combatants. According to them, Castle was a part of the dead. Whether that was true or not, Percy was willing to wait and question Murdock about at a later time.
"It's always a warehouse, or an abandoned church, or a hydro-electric plant," Percy grumbled as he maneuvered his way into the building, following the trail of water signatures he was sure belonged to Natchios.
"You really bringing this up again?" Hill asked in his ear,
Percy shrugged, "It bears repeating," He insisted, "The bad guys of today, they just lack creativity. Where's the meth lab in the basement of a laundromat, the Winnebago, it's just all so stale."
"…You've been watching Breaking Bad, haven't you?"
"I get very lonely without Jean."
Percy got quiet, as the sound of metal on metal caught his attention, screwing his eyes shut, he growled in annoyance, he knew the sound of weapons clashing from anywhere.
"Got two heat signatures somewhere in the middle of the building," Hill said, "Looks like they're fighting,"
"Anybody Natchios is trying to kill is probably someone worth saving," Percy mused to himself, as he quickly sped through the building. Hopping up onto a walkway that carried over the innards of the building, Percy took quick, but quiet steps. The sound of fighting, the occasional gasp of pain, drew nearer with each step. Before too long, he found himself overlooking what he thought, might have been a library. Coming to a stop, the combatants came into view, Natchios was easy to spot. Her lithe figure, with the red bandana over her mouth and nose, and the long blade in her hand was hard to miss. But she was not the most interesting thing in the room. No, the man she was fighting was far more interesting. Dressed in dark green jungle fatigues, the old man she was fighting looked like he'd been plucked straight out of the Jungles of Vietnam.
Squinting, Percy found his eyes widening slightly in surprise. The man's eyes were glassy, with a thin gray film over the pupils. The man was blind.
Natchios lunged forward, her blade positioned low at her side, as she brought it up in a diagonal slash across her body, the man barely managed to catch and parry the blow, stumbling out of the way, and attempting to put a bookshelf between him and the assassin. Deciding that he should intervene before things got more out of hand, Percy leapt down, directly on top of Natchios. Cocking his fist back, Percy summoned a jet of air into his knuckles, which he released as he punched forward. The ball of compressed air, collided hard with Natchios, sending her sprawling into a nearby bookcase, her weapon clattering uselessly to the ground beside her.
Not wasting a beat, and wishing to take her alive in order to question her, Percy landed on the ground, coming into a roll, and bouncing up just in front of the woman. Kicking his leg out, Percy kicked away the fallen weapon, as he punched the woman hard in the jaw.
Natchios had just enough time to look up, her eyes wide in surprise as she saw Percy's sudden appearnece, before his fist connected with her face. Her head snapped back, smacking hard against the bookshelf behind her with a dull 'CRACk,' Not one to lose an advantage when he had one, Percy pressed his attack. Digging both hand into the fabric of her shirt, Percy yanked down hard, as he brought his knee up to collide with her stomach. She gasped in pain, and spittle and blood sprayed out of her mouth, and all over Percy's freshly cleaned pants.
Using his leverage, Percy tightened his grip on the woman and hauled her off her feet. Lifting her high in the air so that she was over his head, Percy twisted his body, and slammed her roughly into the concrete floor behind him. She gasped out again in pain, as all the air was again, knocked clear from her lungs.
Knowing she wouldn't be getting up anytime soon, Percy walked over to the discarded blade, picked it up off the ground, and with a twist of his hands, he snapped the blade in half. He tossed the fragments of the blade somewhere behind him, as he walked back over to the woman, he could see a pair of sais on her hips. He plucked the weapons from her, and stashed them on his own belt, before he turned the woman over with his boot. Reaching into the utility belt on his waist, he produced a pair of restraints and cuffed the woman's hand's behind her back. With Natchios formerly restrained, he reached down, grabbed by the ponytail, and roughly hauled her to a sitting position.
"You can come out now," Percy called out, "Pyscho ninja lady is down,"
Natchios was breathing heavily, her eyes screwed shut in pain, as a thin line of blood dripped down from her forehead.
"Huh," Came a deep voice from Percy's left, with one eye still on Natchios, Percy turned to address the speaker, "Was expecting someone else."
Tilting his head in confusion, Percy asked, "And who would that be?"
The man snorted, hoisting his long Katana up to rest against his shoulder and snow white hair, "Another kid playing dress up in a costume,"
"So you know him too huh?" Percy asked, turning his attention back to Natchios,
"Know him?" the man snorted, "Kid, who the hell do you think trained him?"
That got Percy's attention, his head snapped back around to look at the man. That was entirely too coincidental to be an accident. Something else was going on here and Percy was starting to get that sinking feeling in his stomach, that always told him something really bad was about to happen,
Percy shunted the to the side for the moment however, choosing instead to focus his attention on the matter at hand,
"What did you do to piss her off? Lady is wanted in like, twelve countries. You got a hit on you old man?"
"Hardly," The man laughed,
"The bastard tried to have me killed," Natchios hissed, and Percy's head snapped immediately to her, even as his body began to subtly shift out of the way. Putting Natchios between him and the old man.
"I think I'd like an explanation," Percy said slowly, "What's going on here, I thought she was with the Hand, you with them too?"
The old man tilted his head, and seemed to consider Percy more carefully, "I ain't no Hand junkie boy," he said, as his head swiveled back forth, appraising Percy with eyes that could not see, Percy felt could see everything as well.
"Been a long time since I seen one of your kind before," Percy's blood froze. His back stiffened, and before he could stop himself, he was moving across the room, knocking the man's blade out of his hand, and hoisting him up by the collar, Percy slammed the man into the bookshelf.
Percy had been at his job long enough to know that someone didn't say something like that, if they didn't know exactly what they were talking about. Denying it would be pointless, and Percy had about run out of patience for any games.
"Who the hell are you?" Percy growled,
"Hot shit." The man breathed out, "You're really him aren't you? Percy Jackson, the living legend in the flesh. I think I'm honored," Percy reared back, and slammed the man into the shelf,
"I asked you a question, who the hell are you?" He then leaned in close, "Or maybe the better question is, what the hades are you?"
The man laughed, though it was more of a cough than anything, "You're pretty shit at hiding your little secret, ain't ya son? I been around the block, you ain't the first of your kind I've run into over the years. But I gotta say, never thought I'd run into the illustrious Hero of Olympus,"
Percy's patience was bubbling over, and his anger was flaring up. His rationale thinking, the years of training and discipline were quickly boiling over as anger and rage began to cloud his mind. Rage, that had been allowing under the surface for weeks, the untamable, indomitable nature of the sea, rising within him. It called out to Percy, demanding he use force, demanding he make this man explain himself.
Percy took a shuddering breath, and he tried to force himself to calm down, before he accidentally boiled the man alive. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of something. They almost appeared to be red, purple, and green eyes. But they disappeared as fast as he had seen them.
The man seemed to sense Percy's mounting internal struggle, "I ain't one of your kind son. But you don't live the life I had, without having a few run ins. Met some Romans, at the odd Shinto here and there. More Persians than any other. But you're the first Greek. Hell, you're the Greek, ain't ya? Least I can trust that you ain't with them though. Not you. Not Olympus' favorite little toy."
There was another blur of the multi-chromatic eyes, and Percy's anger flashed again, and he punched the man in the jaw. The old man's head snapped, teeth and spittle falling out of his mouth, even as he laughed.
"Talk!" Percy demanded.
He was panicking. He was beginning to feel sick to his stomach. He'd only ever been called out once before. By that Persian at the Weapon X facility. Despite all his time the organization, everywhere on the planet before, he'd never been called out before then. Now, within the span of only a couple of months, he'd been discovered twice. That was not a coincidence. Percy was sure of it.
"Man, You really don't know nothing do ya kid? You have absolutely no idea what's going on right under your nose." The old man gurgled out a laugh, and shook his head, "Things are happening, and there are forces of work that are threatening to undermine everything you ever love."
"Enough with the games!" Percy roared, there was another flash of color, his anger reaching a fever pitch. He'd been lied to, he'd been betrayed, he'd had his entire life turned upside down and flipped on its ass in the last several months. His patience had finally bottomed out. In its place, was rage. Red hot, and all consuming. He couldn't think straight. Every part of him was yearning to hurt the man before him, to stop the games, the tricks, and the lying and all of the bull shit. To take out every ounce of pain and misery he'd been forced to endure.
The sickening feeling in his stomach grew but he was able to ignore it.
"The name Darius mean anything to you?" The old man finally said, and that tiny piece of information. That little familiar nugget, was enough to trigger the rational part of his brain. Percy took in a heaving breath, and the red slowly dimmed from his vision, and he could finally see a little more clearly. Darius did, in fact, mean something to him. It had been muttered by Rostam, as he lay dying on the floor of the facility. Percy had tried to look into it, but he had run into dead end after dead end. He only came up with myth and fable and things he had neither the time, nor patience to pay attention to.
"Rings a bell, why? Who or what is Darius?"
But Percy never got his answer, There was a roaring battle cry, from somewhere behind him. Swiveling out of the way, Percy grabbed the sword that had threatened to impale him by the blade. Ripping the blade free from the damn ninja that had tried to skewer him, Percy allowed the rage to take over. Just when he'd been about to get some answers, he'd been interrupted. He was done. He was over it, all of it. He allowed his fury to override him, to guide him, to control his motions.
Yanking the blade forward, ignoring the stinging in his hands as the blade cut through his glove. the ninja fell into Percy's guard. Cocking a fist back, Percy hunched the man in chest, with all his strength. There was a sickening 'CRACK,' as the man's chest caved in. The ninja spluttered, and gurgled, as blood quickly filled his lungs, and collapsed to the floor, dying.
Turning, Percy took quick stock of the situation. Somewhere along the way, as he'd been distracted by the old man, Natchios and managed to get free, she was currently struggling with a pair of ninja herself. Realizing he might have been wrong about her situation, but not particularly caring about her well-being, Percy left her to fend for herself. He had anger that needed venting, and this was the perfect opportunity for it.
Reaching out, and feeling for the water in the room, Percy pulled on his will. The one good thing that came from places like this, was that they were always damp. There was always plenty of ambient water from which to pull from. With a roar of rage, Percy unleashed his fury on the men in the room. Water erupted from all around them. Flooding the building and shooting in all directions. With a twist of his hands, the water rose, and formed into spinning drills. Giant, spiraling, watery, drills of death and mayhem.
One of his constructs slammed into two men as the attempted to vault down from the floor above. The drill caught them in the stomach, launching them across the room. Their chests compacted and ruined by the spiraling pinwheels of death. Another drill tore through a man's shoulder. He screamed in pain, and collapsed to the ground, only to swallowed up as another pillar rose up around him, engulfing him whole.
Swiveling in place, his arms outstretched as they guided the water in the room, Percy shot another drill into another pair of men. The water sliced through the pair like they were butter, impaling the two as though the water were a steel rod. Lifting the pair into the air, Percy used them as a club, as he twisted and threw them into another threesome of ninja, that were attempting to make their way down the next hall. The three ninja, caught off guard by the sudden ferocious onslaught, were lifted off their feet. The force of the impact threw them into a nearby wall, which crumbled around them.
His godly heritage called to him, singing for combat. It demanded satisfaction.
His instincts screamed at him, and Percy ducked out of the way, just as the blade of a katana nearly tore his head from his shoulders. Spinning around, Percy formed a blade of ice in his right hand. Deftly parrying away a secondary swing from the man, Percy opened the man's guard, reversed his grip, and embedded his bladed into the man's throat. Feeling someone closing in on his left, Percy formed a second blade in his other hand, and blocked the slash at his leg.
Pulling his blade free from the throat of his victim, Percy ducked under another swipe. Bring his right hand up and across in a diagonal slash, that cut over the chest of his newest target. The man howled in pain, but was quickly silenced as Percy brought his other hand up, and drove the second blade through the man's chin. The blade tore through skin, blood, and bone, before the tip of the blade came free on the other side.
Ripping his blade away from the dead man, Percy will the weapons away, and summoned a war-hammer construct of ice. With a might swing, he slammed the newly created weapon into the chest of a charging Hand member. The crunch of the man's ribs was deafened by the man's cries of anguish, as he flew across the room, into a nearby bookshelf. The bookshelf shattered on impact, before collapsing on top of him. Seeing a final Hand member turn and start to flee, Percy hefted the weapon over his head, took aim, and threw the war-hammer through the air. The hard edge of the construct connect with the back of the fleeing man's skull, crushing it completely, as his body fell lifeless to floor of the library.
The room fell silent, save for the final gasping moans of the soon-to-be dead. Percy panted, the haze and blind rage that had overcome him, finally fading away enough for him to think clearly, and process the situation around him. All enemy combatants had been dealt with. He did a quick scan and found no other traces of water signatures in the area. Then, Percy had to double take, there was someone missing.
He didn't notice that the rage had disappeared, along with the feeling of sickness and the multi-chromatic eyes.
Looking to his left, he saw Natchios, propped up against one of the still standing bookshelves, she had a stolen sword resting on her head, one hand on the pommel, the other on the blade, and her eyes closed. She was taking large, heaving gasps, as she caught her breath. Aside from her however, there was nobody left.
The old man was gone. Before the woman could react, Percy was in front of her, one hand ripping the blade away, while the other wrapped her hands above her head in an ironclad grip.
"Well," The assassin said, giving him an appreciative look up and down, "Can't say I'm necessarily opposed, but it might be a bit messy with all the bodies,"
Percy elected to ignore the comment, "What happened to the old man,"
Natchios playful demeanor vanished, as her eyes narrowed in anger, "Hand took him. Not sure where, but I plan on finding out,"
Not good, very not good. Raising a hand to his ear, Hill was already speaking, "Tracking them now, they're in the sewers. I'll keep an eye on them."
Nodding appreciatively, Percy turned his attention back to Natchios, "You said he tried to kill you, why?"
"Because he's a bastard!" She snarled, "How the hell should I know. Stick," Well at least Percy had a name, "Always plays his own game. Does whatever he wants. He gets off on using people. On twisting them to fit his own screwed up agenda. I'll kill him this time though, enough is enough."
Percy almost snorted, she wouldn't be doing anything of the sort, but he would let her figure that out on her own.
"You're not with the Hand then?" He asked instead,
"I've spent my entire life killing those bastards, you really think I'd join their side?" she spat back,
Percy shrugged, "I didn't think I would be falsely arrested and manipulated for eight years, and yet here we are. People do strange shit. What's the Hand trying to do in New York?"
"How should I know?" She snapped, trying to struggle against Percy's grip, but stopped when a blade of ice formed under her chin, "I wasn't here for them, I have no idea what they want. I was trying to leave the damn city before Stick sent one of his goons after me."
Percy sighed, this was going nowhere, and he had more pressing issues. He needed to get after Stick. Before whatever the Hand had planned for him, inevitably killed him. There were a very small number of people on the planet who knew about the divine world. Smaller still, who knew who he was. That this Stick character knew, was beyond worrisome. Even worse, was that apparently there was a lot more to this Darius thing, than he had originally suspected.
Knowing he wasn't likely to get any more useful information out of the woman, Percy willed away his weapon, and raised a hand in front of Natchios. Channeling the mist, he snapped his fingers, and the woman fell asleep. Manipulating the mist again, he modified her memories, to think that she'd been left for dead by Stick and the Hand, after they'd fought them off. She'd wake up in several hours, in heavy personal detention, likely on her way to some dark hole in the ground. She was wanted on nearly every continent on the planet after all.
"Hill," Percy said, raising a hand to his ear,
"Recovery team is already inbound to your position. Lock her up and get out of dodge. Sending you last known on this Stick guy."
His phone pinged in his pocket, and Percy got a general location. They'd lost the signal somewhere among the sewers, but Percy knew he'd be able to find his target.
His blood humming, Percy turned, and disappeared from the warehouse.
BREAK
He hated sewers. Sure, he was able to keep himself from getting wet, or too covered in the ick, but the stench always stuck with him for weeks. And considering his natural abilities, he was always chosen to work the sewers. Grumbling under his breath, he opted to focus on his target in front of him. He'd gone what felt like at least a mile. His sense of direction was…honestly pretty terrible, so he wasn't entirely sure where he was exactly in relation to the city, not that it mattered all that much.
Somewhere along the way, Percy had found a slight trail of blood in the water. A quick scan with his senses and Percy was able to begin following the trail through the sewer. He assumed this was likely the direction Stick had been taken.
Either that, or Percy was about to walk into a mob hit. Either way, probably a good idea to follow it.
The scenery of the sewer was finally starting to change. The curved walls, and grated walkways began to smooth out. The walls became more angular, and Percy could feel the flow of the water begin to slow. He could tell that he was closing in on something.
He stopped in his tracks, as he felt the water begin to ripple around him. Several bodies were moving slowly in his direction. People didn't try and sneak up on a man in the sewer, in the middle of the night, with good intentions. So, Percy decided to take the initiative. With a minor wave of his hand, Percy focused on the water around the men approaching him. He raised small tendrils into the air, before freezing them solid, creating floating icicles in the air. Then, with another slight wave of his hand, the icicles charged forward, embedding themselves into the chests of the three men that were tailing him.
There were grunts and gasps of pain, mixed with the small gurgles of the dying, as the three men passed from the mortal world.
"Bad career move gentlemen," Percy said softly under his breath, as he continued forward along his trek.
It wasn't long before the sewer gave way into what looked like an underground, industrial complex. Piping, tubes, and valves hung from the ceiling, and moved off in various directions. The water on the floor disappeared, as Percy walked up a small ramp, and out of the murky liquid itself. The floor of the new building he found himself was concrete, and reaching out with his senses, he could feel the thrum of the ocean somewhere nearby. It felt like they might have been directly under the bay.
Seeing a ladder directly in front of him, Percy eyed it warily, casting out around him with his senses. All around him, was empty, and there was nobody waiting immediately by the top of the ladder. He could also feel that this was the direction that Stick had been taken. Wondering idly how the man had been brought up the ladder, Percy pressed forward. Climbing the ladder, he pushed open the small gate at the top, and heaved himself out of the sewer. With a better chance to look at his surroundings, he believed that he was inside an old water treatment plant. The entire west side of the Bay was full of them, built in the sixties and since abandoned in favor of newer, cheaper facilities further north. Casting out with his senses again, he almost sighed when he felt the presence of several more armed combatants making their way towards him.
Ducking out of the way of one blade, Percy buried a knee into the man's stomach, when he doubled over in pain, Percy cracked open the back of his skull with an elbow. Three more took his place as they tried to surround him. Dropping to a knee and spinning slightly, Percy reached out. There was still plenty of water in the pipes and on the floor. He picked up some of the water on the ground, and whipped it through the air. The water, sharpened by his abilities to a razor like edge, tore through the legs of the men, who screamed in agony as they were dismembered.
At this point, Percy wouldn't have been surprised if they entire facility knew he was there, but he couldn't bring himself to care all that much. These guys weren't even using modern weaponry. They were little more than fodder, and the perfect kind of therapy his hurt soul needed at the moment.
Stepping over one of the men, Percy launched shot a blast of compressed air out of one first. It hit one man in the chest, and he flew backwards, his head smacking against a group of pipes, his skull fracturing under the impact. With a flick of his foot, Percy lifted a discarded blade into the air. Catching it with one hand, he reversed his grip, and drove it behind him, straight into the heart of the final man who'd been rushing him. Releasing the blade, the man fell back, the Katana sticking out of his chest.
The process went on for some time. Follow the trail. Get interrupted by ninja. Kill said ninja. Rinse and repeat. Percy quickly lost track of how long he'd been down there, but eventually, the screams of pain, and the hollow laughter, signified his journeys end. The small hallway opened up into a larger, free space. Piping and electrical equipment lined the walls, and duel staircases framed two sides of the large space, leading up to a group of walkways, high above the work floor.
Across the hall, strapped to a chair, was Stick. His face was black and blue. Blood smearing his checks, and dribbling from his temple and the sides of his mouth. The horror show was his right hand however. Under each fingertip, was a large piece of bamboo, filed to a knife-like sharpness. He looked like a ridiculous, bloody Edward Scissorhands. Three more ninja guarded the front of the room, their backs to Percy. While two older men, of Japanese descent, were interrogating Stick.
At that point, Percy was tired. He hadn't expected his week to go from tracking down gangbangers, to killing ninjas, and he was tired. Emotionally and physically. The rage in his heart had slowly started to filter out, and it was leaving him drained. Creating two ice knives in his hands, he drove them into the temples of the two guards with their backs to Percy. Then, with a flick of his wrist, two more blades whipped through the air, and sliced through the throats of the suited gentlemen torturing Stick.
"And here I was…expecting Matty to find me first," Stick laughed out. Percy didn't respond, choosing instead to cut the man's restraints, and take a moment to look at his hand. He might have been able to do something, but he still wasn't confident enough in his abilities to remove the blockage with doing more damage. Luckily for him, Stick made the decision rather easy for him, as he reached out with his free hand, and ripped the bamboo free from under his fingers.
"Mind doing something about that?" He asked, gesturing to the blood that was spilling out of his finger tips. Nodding, Percy grabbed the hand, and stopped the blood flow from pouring out the wounds.
"Why'd you come for me?" Stick asked, reaching down to collect a stray blade from one of the men Percy had killed,
"Not in the mood for games. Darius, who are they?"
"We are your downfall, Sentinel." Came a heavily accented voice from above. At the same time, three more ninja, following the lead of a man Percy had never seen before, ran into the room. Percy's attention was fixed on the woman slowly descending the staircase. She was middle-eastern in appearance. Chestnut brown skin, and dark black hair. which was pulled up into a tight braid, and cascaded over one shoulder. She was wearing combat armor, very similar to Percy's own. Its gold and black color scheme nearly blending into the darkness around her. In a hilt on her waist, was an ornate looking blade. The handle, a deep and rich gold, with intricate patterns and runic symbols, glittering in the dim light.
But the most intriguing thing about the woman, were her eyes. Both beautiful, and hauntingly familiar, they were hypnotic. A pinwheel of purple, red, and green. The iris seemed to almost swirl and ungulate. Unbidden, the now familiar feelings of rage began to build in Percy once more. Along with a deep sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach. He tried to look away, but found that he couldn't. He was trapped by her stare, ensnared by the strangely beautiful, yet terrifying eyes staring back at him. He doubled over, suddenly overcome with an overwhelming need to vomit, as he broke out into a fever. At the same time, the rage he'd been feeling, the all-consuming anger that had been boiling over for days returned in full force.
Was this her doing? Was she forcing him to feel these things? To feel so overcome with hate, and rage? His vision began to swim, even as the woman strode forward. He tried to focus, tried to see, but couldn't. It was worse than anything he'd ever felt before, worse than any illness, any sickness. It felt as though his blood was boiling from the inside out. As though his head were about to erupt. Pain dug through his temples, as the sensation of a migraine, the worst he'd ever conceived, threatened to blind him.
What was happening, who was this demon? The angel of death striding so casually towards him. She reached down to her side, gripping her hand around the hilt of her weapon.
"To think, this is the best of the Greeks. How the mighty truly have fallen. Alexander would be ashamed." She said, her tone mocking,
Unbidden, something began burning in the pocket of his pants. It wasn't painful, but it wasn't comfortable either. A white-hot, and intense feeling. As though he'd left a heated blanket on too long and forgotten about it. It felt familiar, it felt like home. As the woman approached, he reached a hand into the pocket, and wrapped his fingers around a weapon he had not used since he was a teenager. A weapon he'd long since abandoned, in favor of contemporary fire-arms and his own constructs. But the last few days, he'd been unable to shake the feeling he'd need it. He'd felt…empty without, uncertain. It had not been something he'd felt since parting ways with the weapon a very long time ago. His fingers curled around the cap, and a surge of energy coursed through him.
In one motion, he flicked the cap off of Riptide, and brought the blade up, just as the woman brought hers down at his neck. Divine metal met divine metal in high-pitched 'CLANG,'
This woman was either a demigod…or something else entirely.
The noise, along with the surge of energy, was enough of a snap to reality, that Percy was able to think for a brief moment. He identified the eyes were what was manipulating him, much like Medusa, minus the whole turning into a statue thing. He was uncertain of who or what this creature was, beyond that.
Snapping his eyes shut, Percy utilized his superior strength and pushed the woman's blade away. Then, channeling his will into his fist, he slammed his gloved hand into the ground, expelling a wave of air pressure as he did so. The attack sent all parties in the immediate vicinity somersaulting through the air. Then, before anyone could counter attack, Percy stretched out both arms, and focused on the water he was feeling in the surrounding pipes.
His first instinct was to simply drown all the combatants in water. He'd be able to breathe, and he could create an air-bubble for Stick. But he wouldn't do that, he needed at least one of these people alive. Not only did he need to know more about this Darius organization, that seemed bound and determined to kill him, but Percy still didn't know what the Hand's plan for New York was.
So instead, he vaporized all of the water in the pipes, and created and burst them all at once. The pipes around the building exploded, sending shrapnel and debris flying in every direction. There were cries of pain and anguish, but Percy knew none of the combatants had been near enough to be seriously hurt. Then, Percy pulled further on the water he had vaporized, and thickened it into a deep mist. All the while, Percy's eyes were closed. He would to channel his inner Devil. He didn't need his eyes to see, instead, the forms of water that made up the blood stream of several of the enemies came into view, even as their own vision was obstructed.
Dashing toward the woman, Percy brought his sword down across his body, attempting to cleave the woman in two. At the last second, she brought her own blade up to parry the blow. She deflected his blade to the side, and repositioned her arms smoothly. Bringing her weapon about in a horizontal slash, but Percy dodged backwards out of the way, tracking the blood in her hands in order to see the movement of her blade.
Gripping his sword tightly, Percy feinted an overhead stab, only to pivot at the last moment, and bring a slash down across her thigh. The attack found purchase, and the woman gasped in pain, as the familiar sound of blade slicing through flesh met Percy's ears.
The woman recovered quickly, dashing back and out of the way, shouting, "Don't just stand there you peons, kill him!" The ninja were struggling to find him however, between the wounds inflected from when the pipes exploded, and the mist, their movements were sloppy and sluggish. One man barreled toward Percy, his blade swinging wildly. But Percy dodged out of the way, and kicked him hard in the kidney. There was a popping feeling in Percy's boot, as the organs in the man's side exploded from the force of the blow, and he crumpled to the ground. Charging forward, Percy twirled his blade, coating the edges in a thin sheen of water, and swiped at the woman again.
Once more, she managed to dodge out of the way of the attack, though considerably more slowly due to the wound on her leg. However, she had not anticipated what Percy had done with his blade. While the divine metal didn't pierce her skin, the water on the blades edge leapt into action. Jumping from the blade and cutting across the woman's mid-section.
She gasped in pain, but Percy didn't let her rest. Closing the distance once more, Percy took one hand off his hilt, and reached out. Wrapping his hand around her head, fought to find the tear ducts in her eyes, feeling them he channeled his will to boil the water in the ducts. The woman howled in pain as her eyes began to burn. Pressing further, Percy exploded the ducts in her eyes. There was a splatter, and Percy felt something wet hit his face but he ignored it. Percy, using the pain to his advantage, reared back with his sword, and drove the point deep into the woman's chest, feeling the point sever through her body and coming through clean on the other side. The woman stiffened, a choked half-gasp and half strangled cry escaping her lips. There was a clatter of metal on the ground, as her blade fell from her grip.
Breathing heavily, he opened his eyes, and saw the carnage he'd unleashed on the woman. Her eyes, were little more than charred holes in her head, and blood was spilling freely from her lips, as she shuddered on the point of his sword. She took in a heaving breath, before exploding in a burst of golden dust, that covered Percy from head to toe.
The room fell silent. But Percy had never felt more ill at ease.
AN: One chapter left! Been sitting on this idea for a while now. Happy to finally have an opportunity to use it. Not much else to say, last chapter for the arc should be out tomorrow, then it's Harry Potter time. Thanks for all the love and support. See ya tomorrow,
Love,
LilDB